


Corpse Groom

by CasBruell



Category: Corpse Bride (2005)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Retelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-01 19:44:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8635786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasBruell/pseuds/CasBruell
Summary: An LGBT+ retelling of Corpse Bride by Tim Burton.Victor Van Dort is a young homosexual man living in Victorian England who is arranged to marry a woman he does not love. After botching up the wedding rehearsal and mistakenly marrying himself to the corpse of Ennui, a long dead homosexual man who was tricked and left for dead by one he loved, Victor must come to grips with his new life among the dead and grow to accept himself for who he truly is and what he wants.And when a familiar face from a long time past returns to him, Victor must then decide to remain faithful to his betrothed or to run away with his original love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is simply the product of my rainbow and skittle fueled brain binging on Tim Burton when I should have been studying. I've wanted to and thought about this for a long time and now I will posting on this between chapters for Deduce my Sins so as not to turn my brain to mush. No hate please; respect to all is deserved and appreciated.
> 
> Blessed Be.

The worn book easily drifted between aging pages until it settled on a suitable spot, the two blank parchments bound and barely yellowing as he placed it on the desk. He plucked his trusty feather quill pen from the small ink jar, giving it a little flick against the rim to prevent spillage, and gingerly pressed the tip to the appropriate starting point and began with the curly line of the butterfly's twin antennae.

The beautifully smooth and straight strokes guided his hand as if someone else's was placed atop, gently leading his hand and the pen beneath as the swirls and curves came together in perfect textbook form. He detailed the carefree and stunning specimen with extreme care so as not to insult the most delicate of creatures by only paying half a mind to it, and once the last tick of ink connected a very small dry spot where he pulled away to dip, the portrait was complete.

Victor Van-Dort beamed a rare grin of genuine happiness at his depiction of the beautifully blue, a very new specimen of color to his very grey world. He examined the gentle insect for only a moment longer before he lifted the glass casing around it and allowed the butterfly to roam free.

The gentle flutter of its wings was silent and refreshing as it batted about in his room and around the young man before it took its leave out of his open window and took to the heavy air of London, England.

The butterfly drifted down to the street. It fluttered by the clockmaker as he swept the sidewalk outside of his shop, his back and forth motion perfectly in sync with the tick-tock of the clocks just inside the building behind him. Surely he was only to stop when the clocks did, and when he stopped working, sadly there could be no one to wind him back up and send him on his way. There was no such thing as a man-maker.

The butterfly circled a pillar and dodged a cat even though the feline was entranced by the chopping of fish heads on the table above and watching the bodies drop into the basket on the ground. The two butchers moved like a clock as well, one pulling a fish from the barrel under his arm while the other laid down a half-powerful chop to decapitate the sea creature. 

the butterfly passed two gentleman who gave curt bows and mutters to each other as they passed by, it came too close to a mysterious figure with an outrageous chin, who made an annoyed noise and batted it away after his attention faded from the loud screech of the town cryer.

"Hear 'ye, hear 'ye! Ten minutes to count until Van-Dort's wedding rehearsal!"

The news only fell upon two listening pairs of ears, those of the mystery man who gave a glance and the exhausted smoker of a chauffeur as he climbed up to his spot atop the carriage to pick up his master, mistress and young lord.

Meanwhile, across the street, Victoria Everglott gave a gasp as the strings of the corset were pulled even tighter and tied taut by her most trusted friend and beloved maid.

"Oh Hildegard," she frowned, "what if Victor and I don't- nngh, like each other?" She asked, her sentence interrupted by another hard tug.

"Ha!" Her mother's sarcastic voice rang from the doorway, "as if that has anything to do with marriage. Do you suppose your father and I "like" each other?" She asked, admonishing her daughter.

"Surely you must... a little?"

"Of course not!" Her parents barked at each other after a moment of hesitation, either taken aback or in disgust.

"Get those corsets laced properly," her mother dismissed the matter, "I can hear you speak without gasping."

Victor sprinted from the house and quickly climbed into the carriage after his own jolly folks, and with his entrance Mayhew gave the reins a snap and sent the horses on their way to the Everglott residence.

"You've certainly hooked a winner this time, Victor," his father praised, only to be added to by his aggressive mother, "Now all you have to do is reel her in!"

"I'm already reeling, mother," Victor cast his glance downwards, nervously holding his knees and trying to ignore the thunderous pound of his heart in his chest. "Shouldn't Victoria Everglott be marrying a... lord or something?" He asked, secretly meaning that she would hopefully need to marry anyone else but him. He never asked for any of this, and he wanted absolutely none of it.

"Oh, nonsense!" His mother barked, "We're every bit as good as the Everglotts. I always knew I deserved better than a fish merchant's life."

"But-" he grew desperate, "I've never even spoken to her."

"Well at least we have that in our favor." She said sassily, her insinuations hanging silently in the air of the carriage.

Mayhew gave a loud hack and cough from the outside, and she screeched for him to "silence that blasted coughing".

Within only a minute they arrived at the others' home, and with an ending note on the hopeful and perfectionist tune they had been singing in the streets, they were welcomed into the daunting home of the Everglotts.

Victor straggled behind the adults as they filed into the west drawing room. He really only wanted a moment to himself, truly he did. But when his sleep-deprived eyes settled on the beautiful piano beside him, he couldn't stop his long fingers from ghosting over the keys and pressing down just enough to play a simple tune from the left to right.

Suddenly remembering that he was a guest in the dreary house and that the piano did not belong to him, the lad turned his gaze to the hallway where the adults had disappeared to, and when he saw no sign of anybody coming to scold him or that heard the music at all, he pressed a few more keys with a newfound freedom and sunk down to the firm bench to resume playing the strangely eerie yet soothing tune.

He lost himself in the gentle music as his pianist fingers migrated back and forth between keys and accompanied each other to form a string of beautifully correlating sounds. The playing gained volume and strength, not to mention energy, the type that was foreign to London, England in these most dark of days. The energy of life; or at least the desire to live as a free soul.

He played louder, he played more intensely, more quickly, more energetically, more-

"-Oh!" He gasped in surprise at the figure suddenly beside him, and while jumping up from his startle he had knocked over the bench and sent the small vase spinning towards the edge. He swiftly braced it between his hands to stop it from crashing to the floor.

"Do forgive me," he gasped out anxiously.

The girl beside the piano smiled gently.

"You play beautifully," she complimented simply.

"I-I do apologize Miss Everglott. How rude of me to... well. Excuse me," he remembered the bench and kneeled down to place it upright.

"...mother wouldn't let me near the piano," Victoria shared with a melancholy voice, causing him to look up from dusting the seat off. "Music is improper for a young lady. Too passionate, she says."

Victor rose to his feet before responding, "If I may ask, miss... Everglott, where is your ch-chaperone?"

"Perhaps," she came closer, "in view of the circumstances, you could call me Victoria."

"Ah," he suppressed a grimace, "yes, of course... Victoria.."

"Yes, Victor?" She questioned, stepping even closer to the fidgety man.

He wrung his tie between his hands, as if twisting his own neck as he wished he could do right then to stop this ridiculous arrangement from continuing any further.

"Tomorrow we are to be... m...mmm..." He couldn't even bring himself to say the word to one he felt nothing for.

"Married," she finished for him, as if amused.

"Y-yes, hah. M-Married."

In honest truth Victor wanted nothing to do with this girl. She seemed lovely, that much was apparent, most likely a perfect candidate for marriage and any man would be lucky to be arranged with her. Any man other than Victor, who quite frankly cared nothing for the young ladies around him. They may be pleasing to look at, but... he had no desire to be with a young woman.

His attentions always seemed to shamefully draw themselves to the young men in his age group, the suits and top hats and wide assortment of ethnicities were as fascinating as the butterflies he sketched in his free time. Some with facial hair, others who worked with their hands for their living.

The rather painful word associated for his kind were "queers", as a young American man once told him while he was in London to study abroad in Victor's class. The American had said the word sadly, and it pained Victor's heart to see another so distraught simply by an ugly word for a minority of people.

The man was named Arthur, and Victor was glad to spend the days in his company that he was in the UK. The two used to walk together, most often never saying a word but not needing to. They would toss stones into the woods and sometimes just stand together on the bridge beside the church.

Arthur used to smile at him, and it made Victor's heart race in the way that made him feel as though he could fly. Victor asked him if all the smiles in America were like his, and Arthur only shook his head. The blonde man had taken his hand then, and his lively eyes stared into the fearful ones of Victor. He was not afraid of Arthur, he could never be afraid of Arthur. He was afraid of the forgotten feeling deep inside, that same sensation that made him fantasize flight whenever Arthur was close to him.

 _"I wish I could keep you,_ " Arthur had said before he kissed the back of Victor's hand. He was such a gentleman, so kind and honest.

 _"I...I'm not sure what you mean,"_ was Victor's response. He was terribly confused of the other man's affectionate gestures and intimate words. Surely this did not constitute what he thought it did.

Arthur fondly shook his head again.

After that, Arthur was shipped back to the New World, and Victor's heart went with him.

He was pulled from his deep daze when Victoria spoke again.

"Silly, isn't it?"

"Yes, silly. Hah." He quickly realized what it was he said before swiftly seating himself beside her and resting his elbow on the piano,  
"-no, no, not at all, no." ...only to succeed in knocking over the small vase that only held a single twig lined with four white flowers.

"Oh, oh dear- I'm sorry," he apologized again profusely.

Victoria only raised the twig after giving him a glance and gently sniffed the flowers before offering it to Victor, and he suspected she did it to appear more sensitive and ladylike. He only took the twig as a notion of gratitude.

They were rudely interrupted by a loud and threatening voice, one Victor quickly recognized as Lady Everglott's.

"What impropriety is this? You shouldn't be _alone_ together!" Victor shrunk. "Here it is one minute before five, and you're not at the rehearsal." She waved her finger angrily at the two.

"Pastor Galswels is waiting." She turned around and glanced back, ushering for them to follow with no room for argument. 

"Come at once."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the rehearsal to meeting Ennui. Please comment if you enjoy. This has really become a gift to the few archivers who bookmarked this work; thank you so much.

"Master Van Dort, from the beginning. Again."

 

Victor's mouth was dry from stumbling over the relatively simple vows for three hours straight.

 

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine."

 

The intimidating pastor looked up with great irritation from his holy book, his staff held so tightly in his hand that Victor feared it would snap.

 

"Let's try it again," he said pointedly.

 

"Yes. Yes, sir." Victor returned meekly.

 

"With this candle," he leaned towards the gently burning wax on the table, holding the wick of his to the flame. When the flame didn't take he made a small noise of annoyance mixed with embarrassment. "This candle," he tried again. No flame. "..This candle." Another failed attempt.

 

He couldn't help but look behind him at his flustered parents and to the unamused faces of Victoria's. When the pastor cleared his throat rather loudly to collect his attention, he noticed that his candle had lit while his head was turned.

 

He chuckled nervously and straightened back up.

 

"With this candle... hah," his attempt at an ice-breaking laugh blew out the finally accomplished flame.

 

The room was filled with sighs and groans from the foursome of disappointed and embarrassed adults.

 

"Continue!" Galswells barked, but was interrupted by the doorbell. His eye twitched; this really was not how he planned to spent his day.

 

Lord Everglott waved a hand at his snooty-looking butler. "Get the door, Emil."

 

Galswells was seemingly teeming with rage at the clueless fumbling lad before him, but held it well. "Let's just pick it up at the candle bit." His tone implied that Victor would get the right the next time or he would suffer a whack by the holy man's staff.

 

Emil swiftly returned from his dismissal with a small card in hand, and he offered it to his master.

 

"A Lord Barkis, sir." He said simply as he placed it into Lord Everglott's sweating hand.

 

As he analyzed the card an unfamiliar young man resembling that of the so-called leader of America stepped out to his side, fidgeting with his well-groomed nails instead of greeting the man or offering eye contact.

 

"I haven't a head for dates," he said as if addressing an old friend, "apparently I'm a day early for the ceremony."

 

Lady Everglott took the card from her husband and he leaned in to whisper, "Is he from your side of the family?"

 

"I can't recall," Lady Everglott returned, intrigued nonetheless. "Emil," she snapped her fingers and motioned to the card, "a seat for Lord Barkis."

 

As quickly pattering footsteps sounded through the drawing room, the stranger dropped down into a seat just as it was slid beneath him, crossing his leg over the other and dusting off his knee impressively.

 

Victor and Victoria couldn't help but stare at the strange man now watching the rehearsal of their betrothing, their actions halted. But with a small sentence of encouragement from the visitor and a motion with his hand for them to "carry on", the pastor returned his hateful scowl to young Victor.

 

"Let's try it again, shall we, Master Van Dort?"

 

"Yes. Yes, sir. Certainly." Victor raised his unoccupied hand to resume where they left off, his candle now burning thanks to Victoria lighting the wick with her own.

 

"Right." The pastor hissed.

 

"Right." Victor returned, smiling a tad, at first believing he had finally gotten it correct. Until he realized that his left hand was raised.

 

"Oh! Right!" He quickly raised the other and caught the still-burning candle in his left hand.

 

"With this... this-" His mind left him and he temporarily forgot the phrase for the hundredth time.

 

"Hand!" The pastor answered, not even bothering to conceal the roll of his eyes at the boy's fumble.

 

Victor quickly recovered and offered his upturned palm to Victoria, who placed hers atop his but looked quite ready to drop dead. "With this hand, I- with- Ooh!" His abdomen hit the table on his third step.

 

"Three steps, three!" The pastor finally snapped, barking at him, "Can you not count? Do you not wish to be married, Master Van Dort?"

 

The response was too immediate.

 

"No, no."

 

"You do not?" Victoria was clearly taken aback and offended, and she looked at Victor with surprise.

 

"No!" Victor returned, _of course not._  


 

"I meant, no I do not not wish to be married." He quickly thought about how to phrase it gently to create damage control. "That is, I want very much to- Ow!"

 

He earned his thunk with the staff much quicker than even he expected.

 

"Pay attention!" The pastor roared, "Have you even remembered to bring the ring?" He gave a look of pure doubt.

 

"The ring? Yes. Of course." He fished in his pocket to retrieve it.

 

William gave his wife a thumbs up, not seeming all too affected by their son's embarrassing blunders.

 

Victor held up the ring between two long fingers to demonstrate that he indeed had it with him, only for it to jump from his nervously shaky fingertips. He immediately gave the pastor a look and dove after it on his knee, but the small hoop of gold was slippery and sprung away from his grabbing hands.

 

"Dropping the ring!" The pastor shook his head in disbelief at the sky, "This boy doesn't want to get married!"

 

Victor barely heard his fiancé's mother call the action disgraceful before he slid down and finally got a grasp on the ring, but only after his arm was sent underneath her dress with a small "excuse me" from the boy.

 

"Got it," he meekly proclaimed as he rose back up, hoping it would be enough to set the rehearsal back on track.

 

Of course, no such luck as the adults quickly began to scurry about and bustle about the small fire set ablaze on Lady Everglott's dark dress. As quickly as it began he was shoved aside by Lord Everglott and the Pastor shut his holy book with an exhausted shake his head.

 

It was only after Lord Barkis spilled the goblet of wine atop the tiny fire that everybody calmed down and he tossed the goblet behind him, only for it to be caught upright by Emil and everybody's shocked faces to become quite apparent.

 

"Enough!" The pastor exclaimed, "This wedding cannot take place until he is properly prepared!" He cast his hateful glance back onto Victor, who was cowering by the doors.

 

"Young man, learn. Your. Vows." He growled out, and everybody's glares were fixated on him as well as Victor backed onto the doors, his hand helplessly searching for the knob until he found it and scrambled out of the Everglott residence.

 

All was quiet until the 'savior' of the day, Lord Barkis himself, spoke to taunt the boy. "Well, he's quite the catch, isn't he?"

 

Victoria's horrified and mortified face was all that was expressed in that room as all fell quiet upon Victor's welcomed departure.

 

Meanwhile, on the bridge just outside the town, Victor leaned on the cold cobble and raised the twig to his face to examine it with humiliation. He sighed deeply and sorrowfully, his eyes closing as he considered what he had done for the fifth time since it happened. The angry voices echoed in his ears like the thunder that used to keep him awake at night as a boy and caused him more than one accident.

 

"Oh, Victoria," he groaned, "she must think I'm such a fool." He tucked the branch back into his breast pocket with the ring, "This day couldn't get any worse."

 

But of course, it did.

 

"Hear 'ye, hear 'ye!" The town crier's voice and bell ringing tore through the otherwise peaceful winter night, "Rehearsal in ruins as Van Dort boy causes chaos!" He hesitated to consider a clever line to resume, then struck gold with: "Fish fiancé could be canned!" He turned away to continue mocking the youth to the rest of the town as Victor exhaustedly threw his arms up in a "seriously" motion as Arthur had showed him, and walked off. "Everglott's all fired up as Van Dort disaster ruins rehearsal!"

 

Victor took to the woods where Arthur used to take him when he was stressed, and he talked to himself as he did to help get every thought out of his head.

 

"It really shouldn't be all that difficult." he admonished, "It's just a few simple vows."

 

"With this hand... I will take your wine." He sighed. "Oh! No."

 

He walked further into the woods and resumed to "learn" his vows, though they felt so much more like a curse upon himself or memorizing an essay.

 

He came to a clearing with a few misshapen tree stumps before he finally stopped walking and struck rock bottom.

 

"With this... with this... With this candle, I will- I will..." He put out his hands. "I will set your mother on fire." He facepalmed and sank down onto a stump, ready to give up.

 

"Oh, it's no use." Of course he'd never be able to do it, his heart was not Victoria's to shackle. He had no desire to be with her, to be trapped in that empty commitment and to be expected to begin a family with her. Such would be unbearable hypocrisy to their future generation. What if he were free to marry who he wished after being saddled with Victoria and he told his children to marry for love, but his own marriage was the most illogical example of that?

 

He took the twig from his pocket again and examined it in his palm, the ring gracefully looped on a secondary stem and making the plant appear more whole. He plucked the twig and sniffed the flowers gently, and the very slight scent was enough to bring a small smile to his lips, which was quickly replaced by a look of determination.

 

If he was to marry a woman he felt nothing for, he would at least make it the damned best wedding she'd ever seen, he decided. And that started with getting his godforsaken vows in order, once and for all.

 

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows." He stood up with confidence.

 

"Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine." Victor tossed the ring into the air and caught it with the swipe of his hand.

 

He barely thought before he addressed a pair of stumps, one thin and one heavy, and pretended they were the Lord and Lady Everglott. "Ah, Mrs. Everglott, you look ravishing this evening." "What's what, Mr. Everglott? Call you "dad"? If you insist, sir."

 

He snapped a smaller twig from a branch, "With this candle, I will light your way in darkness." He held the tip to another on the stump before him.

 

He raised his hand for the finale.

 

"With this ring, I ask you to be mine."

 

The ring was slid onto the extended twig accompanied by four others in variously curled position, the branch protruding from the ground. No sooner then the ring was left on thee strangely realistic 'finger', all around Victor fell eerily still.

 

The wind stopped blowing down his neck and the only sound was the constant lone "caw" of the murder that seemed to suddenly flock behind him and covered the branches. The crows stared at him, as if expecting a show, or perhaps they wanted to send Victor running.

 

Victor scanned the birds with his hand still near the branch, in case he needed to grab the ring and make a run for it. As if reading his thoughts, however, the branch suddenly lurched forward and took hold of his wrist, and Victor's entire arm was pulled down into the hole in the snow until snow began to soak through his shoulder and gave him the chills.

 

He could only gasp in horror, momentarily frozen, and the crows at that moment awakened to bat their wings about and filled the air with their terrifying cries. Victor found his strength and pulled himself back on his feet, trying to use the momentum to force his arm out of the now boney-looking grasp. The hand persisted and tried to tug him again, but he grasped his own elbow and yanked as hard as he can, only for the joint of the arm to snap apart dryly.

 

The sudden release caused him to fly backwards and he landed harshly on his back, but upon sitting up he quickly realized that the thing holding onto his arm for dear life (or death) was indeed a _hand._ A skeletal arm, dethatched from a body and clenching his wrist with much less force than should be possible since there were no muscles. It was much easier for Victor to shake it off, the arm landing behind him and upturned.

 

Before he could think to get up and _run,_ the sound of earth ripping apart caught his attention and kept him rooted in the snow as the snowy ground tore and fell open from the inside, roots being forced up and out as _something_ began to climb out from the freezing prison.

 

A terribly blue arm reached up, roots snapping, and dug down into the ground for leverage as a lowered head followed from the gaping hole in the floor. The creature used its opposite leg to force the rest of its body out of the dirt, and Victor immediately recognized that it was a young man's corpse, one with his body type but shorter and curly blue hair that covered its face. The corpse was wearing a white wedding suit with the material eaten away as well as the flesh underneath to expose a few ribs and a pant leg was completely ripped away, a skeletal leg underneath.

 

Victor's breath had caught in his throat long before, and when the 'man' readjusted the flower-adorned headband that now pinned his curly bangs back atop his head and away from his face, two wide eyes and bloodless gash for a cheek staring down on the terrified boy with such intensity and instability that Victor knew he was going to be sick.

 

The man blinked once. "I do." He uttered, then reached for Victor expectantly and began to ghost towards him, though slow enough that Victor managed to get his thoughts in order and scurried up to his feet and dashed away at top speed.

 

The arm attempted to crawl after him and was scooped up by the pursuing corpse as he followed his target.

 

Victor ran over the small hill but tripped on the steep decline and lost his footing, causing him to trip and slide until his head collided with a tombstone. The pain exploded through his noggin and he seethed, but quickly recalled that he was being chased and checked behind him just as the undead corpse began a graceful descent down the hill. He backed up against the tombstone and tumbled over it to resume his escape.

 

He ran face-first into a tree (twice). He slipped and slid on the iced over river. He was tangled in grabby branches and his coat tore at the shoulder.

 

Victor sprinted towards the bridge beside the church just as the murder of crows that had been watching him like an audience swooped overhead and he ducked when he reached the cobble arch on the ground, only raising his head when they scattered away and desperately scanning behind him for his attacker.

 

He saw only the end of the bridge, the lonesome church, and the woods beyond the holy building. There was no sign of the creature. Victor swallowed and panted again and turned to head back through the woods and get the hell home, only to come literally face-to-face with the blue one that stared into him with a terrifying... well, _something_.

 

The crows returned and began to circle the pair as Victor was helplessly forced against the low wall, the corpse stepping much too close and placing deathly cold hands on his shoulders, one of bone and the other tinted blue. The corpse grinned, and it was almost charming if those lips were human.

 

"You may kiss the groom," the corpse muttered huskily before shutting those dead eyes and capturing Victor's trembling mouth.

 

Victor's mind left his body and everything went to black, with only the caws of the murder filling his ears.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bar scene and the Remains of the Day musical. Sorry if it isn't satisfactory; how exactly does one write a musical in a story format? Please, please leave a comment, it really helps me stay motivated even if this isn't a very popular work. Blessed Be.

When Victor began to regain his senses, his eyelids fluttering open and coming into focus, all that filled his sight were two figures; a tall well-dressed... skeleton, and the familiar blue 'person' that he ran from before he fell unconscious.

"A new arrival." The fancy man of bones chimed, his drink in hand and facial hair on point.

"He must've fainted." the blue man spoke up, leaning closer, his skeletal arm raised gently as it cupped the nape of Victor's neck. "Are you all right?"

"What-- what happened?" Victor muttered, mostly to himself, as his eyes widened at the realization sinking into him and his pupils darted all over before being forced to focus on the corpse touching him again.

He could make out two more ghostly figures behind the two mentioned, one being a tall and thin chef-like corpse with the same blue skin as the one that took him away, and the other another skeleton with a long, drooping hat holding a red bottle and taking a swig.

The fancy skeleton got right up in Victor's face as he spoke again.

"By Jove, man. Looks like we've got ourselves a breather."

Victor could only silently drop his jaw open in shock, the skeleton soon being shoved aside by a rather plump blue woman with scraggly, wirey black hairs coming out from the back of her chef's hat.

"Ooh," she cooed, her arms bent up by her chest in an excited way, "Does he have a dead brother?"

Before Victor could process that she said "dead brother", the woman was forced aside as well, this time a small child's skeleton in a blue suit poking at him like a dead animal with a stick as he observed him, stating "He's still soft."

Victor made two quiet noises of horror as he scooted back until he hit some hard mass, and used his long arms to climb up it until he was up on his feet, still staring down at the child with discomfort and quite honestly unable to comprehend what was happening.

He heard someone within the area call out "A toast, then," followed by the clink of two iron mugs together and the tell-tale sound of a sheet of steel being ripped from organic material and then shoved back in a moment later.

"To the newlyweds."

Victor found his will to process at those words, and echoed them with confused disbelief. His heart was pounding thunderously in his chest, and it only leapt into his throat as the corpse that took him came very close in an almost intimate way and placed both hands on his shoulders, gripping them firmly yet gently.

"Oh," the young man almost moaned, "in the woods, you said your vows so perfectly." His sentance was punctuated by the wiggle of his skeletal fingers to show Victor the glimmer of the gold band meant for Victoria.

"I did?" Victor mumbled, the memories soon tumbling back through his mind as he turned around slowly to face the bar. "I did."

He was quick to bend over and half-heartedly thunk his head against the bar as he half-shouted for himself to "wake up". It all had to be a dream, there was no other logical explaination for it.

However he had no time to ponder why he was still in the world when he eyes opened, as he heard an approaching voice spouting a French greeting he'd heard many times during his linguistics studies.

"Bonjour!" the voice sounded young and masculine. Soon Victor saw the same skinny blue chef from when he awoke carrying a tray, and on the tray was only a severed head with insect legs protruding from the chopped neckline and multiple cockroaches scurrying about after its arrival.

Once it was set down after shouting a few "coming through"s, the head actually scampered on the roach legs until it was rather close to Victor's head.

"My name is Paul, I am the head waiter." The head laughed at its own little pun, and Victor gasped audibly as he recoiled away from it and unintentionally close to the young man's corpse.

"I will be creating your wedding feast." Paul informed them.

As soon as he said the last two words, the corpse's entire eyeball popped right out of its socket, leaving only a deep hole and a green worm wearing more makeup than a prostitute jetting out of the open orfice. Victor gagged as the thing excitedly exclaimed that it was salivating at the mention of a wedding feast, but the corpse was quick to use his hand to shove the creature back into his skull.

"Maggots." He explained and laughed nervously in order to difuse Victor's discomfort.

But it did nothing to calm his nerves and Victor stumbled back, bumping into yet another corpse with a vine protruding from its eye, and resumed to back up through the crowd of onlookers.

"Keep away!" He cried out, tripping and falling backwards with a hold on something hard.

All eyes were on Victor as he climbed back up fearfully and, noticing that he had grabbed onto the handle of a sword that had been embedded deeply into a very short skeleton in a pirate's uniform, he attempted to pull the weapon free in order to defend himself.

However he only succeeded in pulling the entire dwarf from his stool and holding him out in front of his trembling body like a shield.

"I've got a-- I've got a... dwarf." He turned around to threaten the pair of skeletons that were a bit too close to him, "And I'm not afraid to use him." He gave a wave of the little pirate to enphasize his point, the shocked gasps of those around him filling his ears and striking him with a rare dose of false bravery.

"I want some questions. Now!"

"Answers. I think you mean "answers." The dwarf corrected him.

"Thank you, yes, answers." Victor agreed politely. "I need answers!"

"What's going on here? Where am I?" He shot a look directly at the blue corpse that brought him there. "Who are you?"

"Well," the man cupped his hands together after brushing some of his hair away from his face, "that's kind of a long story." He smiled at Victor, hoping to reassure him.

"What a story it is." The spotlight was quite literally stolen by a smooth yet husky voice, everybody's attention being turned to the skeleton on stage with a small black hat and only one eyeball rolling around in his skull. "A tragic tale of romance, passion... and a murder most foul."

The dwarf put a thumb up in approval. "This is gonna be good."

Victor gasped again and dropped the pirate.

"Hit it, boys." The performer snapped his bony fingers.

As the music started up, all of the corpses and skeletons around Victor began to order up more drinks and crowd together to enjoy the show they were about to receive.

"Hey," the performer cried,

"give me a listen, you corpses of cheer. At least those of you, who still got an ear." He sang. "I'll tell you a story, make a skeleton cry, of our own jubiliciously handsome Corpse Groom."

The backup dancers snapped their fingers and chimed in unison.

"Die, die, we all pass away, but don't wear a frown, because it's really okay."

"You might try and hide, and you might try and pray, but we all end up the remains of the day." Victor tried to wander away while everybody was distracted, but he was grabbed by the arm and forced back.

After a short dance from the three backups, the singer resumed theatrically as he brought the 'Corpse Groom' up onto the stage beside him.

"Well, our boy was a beauty known for miles around, when a mysterious stranger came into town. He was plently good looking, but down on his cash. And our poor little baby, he fell hard and fast."

As he sang the narration, the two's shadows came to life upon the wall. Victor could make out a figure that almost resembled Lord Barkis to the left and that of another young man to the right, one with wildly curly hair and splendid posture.

The forboding shadow of the skeleton made a seductive gesture by offering his upturned palm, and the secondary man seemed to touch his own chin as if overcome. The forboding figure bent down and kissed the man's opposite hand and took it in his own before ushering the smaller figure into his arms, dipping him down low as he falls right into them.

When the skeleton helped the Corpse Groom back to his feet, he resumed to sing as the shadows reverted back quicker than Victor could blink.

"But his daddy couldn't know, he just couldn't cope. So our lovers came up with a plan to elope."

Two dead men, one being the fancy skeleton and the other another random blue body, came up on either side of Victor and took him by the shoulders to usher him into a side-to-side dance as they looked right at him and repeated the corus, that he shouldn't wear a frown if he passed away because it "was really okay."

At that point the entire bar was singing along and even dancing together to the narrative musical number, and for a few moments the initial performer disappeared behind the bar and placed his hat atop of Paul, to the head waiter's confusion and momentary pause. After that the song fell into chimes of "yeah, yeah, yeah" and a short skit in which the skeletons used each other as instruments.

"So they conjured up a plan to meet late at night, they told not a soul, kept that whole thing tight."

He ghosted around the Corpse Groom and cupped the snug collar in an almost sultry way. "Now his father's wedding suit fit like a glove. You don't need much when you're really in love." He said the last part with a heavy batting of his nonexistant eyelashes and sounded nearly mocking of the man.

In the blink of an eye he was on the man's other side.

"Except for a few things, or so I'm told. Like the family jewels and a satchel of gold."

"And next to the graveyard by the old oak tree, on a dark foggy night at a quarter to three, he was ready to go. But where was his love?"

"And then?"

"He waited."

"And then?"

"There in the shadows, was this his man?"

"And then?"

"His little heart beat so loud!"

"And _then?"_

"And then, baby, everything went black. Now, when he opened his eyes, he was dead as dust. His jewels were missing and his heart was bust."

He began to ghost over to Victor, waving his arms in a fluid motion.

"So he made a vow lying under that tree that he'd wait for his true love to come set him free. Always waiting for someone to ask for his hand," The spotlight fell onto the Corpse Groom again and he smiled, extending his skeleton hand to Victor. "And out of the blue comes this groovy young man," the performer shoved Victor into the corpse's reach, and their hands were quickly intertwined as they begun to spin.

"Who vows forever to be by his side, and that's the story of our, corpse groom."

The corpse's elbow snapped apart again and it sent Victor backwards, but he was caught by onlookers and quickly shook the hand off of his own again as he trembled with fear. The song's finishing offered the man a window of opportunity to finally make his escape, and he wandered slowly towards it as he snapped his fingers quietly to appear engaged.

But the second their backs were turned Victor bolted up the stairs closest to him and out of the bar like his life depended on it, ignoring that the Corpse Groom was glancing around for him and only focusing on his departure from this world.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay and all that. I'm trying.

The crisp and chilly night was still and stagnant, and it nipped at Mayhew's reddened nose as he coughed a few times and struck a match against his pipe. He lit the tobacco and took an underwhelming drag as he shook out the match and dropped it onto the colourless cobble.

The carriage was parked outside of the Everglott residence, where it had been positioned ever since the early evening, but at the time of Mayhew's ninth smoke for that day, it was nearly midnight, meaning that young Master Van Dort had run off who knows where approximately four hours prior. Mayhew felt pity for the poor horses that had to stand there, waiting, waiting, waiting, until they could be put away in their stables and feast on the same plain straw they'd had every single boring day of their lives.

From inside the gloomy Everglott manor, Victoria gazed forlornly out of the window that faced the monotone town, with her hands clasped against her chest as if her heart were breaking more and more every passing minute.

'Oh, Victor,' She thought to herself, 'where have you run off to? I hope he didn't get lost somewhere, just the thought makes me shiver. It's so cold, out, tonight, I hope you simply went home and are warmed up by a cosy fire.'

She would have resumed her dramatic worries had it not been for her mother's voice speaking up to tell her to come away from the window. Victoria wordlessly turned around and wandered back towards the sitting area, where her and Victor's parents sat and awaited his return while sipping a bland flavourless tea. No amount of sugar or honey could liven it up, but nobody dared complain. It wasn't as though there was an alternative.

Mrs. Van Dort tried to reassure the unamused nobles, stating "Oh, I'm sure he'll be back shortly."

She didn't think twice before adding in, "He's terrified of the dark. In fact, when he was a boy, he used to wet his combinations regularly," she elbowed her husband for good measure, "didn't he, William?"

Before said elder could respond, however, a loud knocking on the drawing room doors grabbed everyone's attention, and Lord Everglott let out a gruff "Enter" to the stranger.

Upon command not one, but both of the doors swung open, and inside stepped one Lord Barkis, whom immediately angled himself slightly and fingered at his coat as if to boast his sophistication. He cast a glance over them and didn't hesitate to make eye contact with Victoria for a split second.

Lady Everglott's mood increased in the blink of an eye when she saw that their guest had come to pay them a visitation.

"Ah, Lord Barkis." She addressed him with a certain eagerness to impress. "I trust the room is to your liking."

To an outside ear it may have been thought that the lady of the home meant that they redecorated the current room they were in to suit the gentleman's tastes, but in actuality the Everglott's had provided Lord Barkis with one of their guest rooms to stay in after learning that his home was 'quite a distance', as Barkis phrased it, and neither of them could recall which side of the family he was from, so they decided to host him regardless, just in case.

Lord Barkis only nodded to her as he approached the twosome. "Thank you, you are a most gracious hostess. Which is why it pains me to be the bearer of..." He leaned in close to Lord Everglott, uttering "such bad news," as if he didn't wish for the walls to hear.

The young man snapped his fingers, a gesture which summoned the town crier, who wandered into the room holding his signature bell and holding a default expression despite the circumstance. Victoria wondered if Lord Barkis had to tell him that he is to enter the room when he snapped his fingers, or if the crier had to make an assumption on when to make his reveal.

Lord Barkis stood back up straight and requested of him, "Would you care to repeat tonight's headline for us?"

Doing exactly that, the town crier began to wave his bell and blurt out in his loud, booming baritone, "Hear 'ye, hear 'ye!" The teacups vibrated from his thundrous volume, and the others could only cover one ear to lessen the blow and receive the message.

"Victor Van Dort seen this night on the bridge in the arms of a mystery woman! The dark-haired temptress and Master Van Dort slipped away into the night!"

His pitch suddenly dropped, and he spoke rather calmly as he added "-and now the weather. Scattered showers, followed by-"

He was cut off by Barkis announcing that they had heard enough and that he was needed for nothing else, and the town crier took his leave as though nothing had happened.

To say that Mr. and Mrs. Van Dort were surprised would be an understatement.

"Mystery woman?" She echoed with scepticism, "He doesn't even know any women!"

"Or so you thought." Lord Barkis interjected and made his way to the doors, in no hurry and taking long, elegant strides. He paused at the twin doors and took each handle, peering into the drawing room with all eyes on him.

"Do call for me if you need my assistance," another pause, "in any way." He pulled the doors shut, and left them to stew in the new information that Victor was apparently whisked away by a 'mystery woman'.

Victoria's heart clenched at the rumour. Victor had seemed so... unorthodox, when they rehearsed their wedding vows. He made mistakes, he bumbled, and he was jumpy and eager to please. He wasn't average or default, he was interesting and endearing to her. She quickly grew to love the inner dork in him, the same hopeless fool that played his heart out on the piano and knocked over the bench afterwards.

Lady Everglott, suddenly overcome, stood up and went to gaze out the window to regain her bearings. "Good heavens, Finis, what should we do?"

Lord Everglott didn't hesitate to command his butler to fetch his musket.

In a quick panic Mrs. Van Dort ushered her husband to do something, and he sprung to his old, tired feet and snatched the gun away from the butler before it could land in the angered Lord's hands.

"Um, the town crier probably just had a slow news day." He tried meekly, fearful for his only son's life. "You know how it is. You need a little something to cry about." He walked away and placed the musket back where the butler plucked it from the wall.

Finis stood as well. "Regardless, we are one groom short for the wedding tomorrow." A familiar feeling of dread seeded in his belly and he felt a little woozy as he added, "Not to mention the financial implications."

"A most scandalous embarrassment for us all." Lady Everglott said darkly.

Victoria could only stand in silent shock as the scene unravelled in front of her.

"Oh, give us a chance to find him," Mrs. Everglott pleaded desperately, "we beg of you. Just give us until dawn."

"Very well. Till dawn." Lady Everglott promised with a flick of her wrist, effectively sealing Victor's fate.

\--

At the town square of the underground, Ennui looked around in all directions while gently calling out for his groom.

"Victor, darling, where are you?" He repeated for the seventh time, not that he was truly counting.

He took a few steps forward since it would do no good to stand in one place, only for the same sassy and semi-judgemental voice in his head to chime in.

'If you ask me, your boyfriend is kind of jumpy.'

"He's not my boyfriend." Ennui argued pointedly and wiggled his skeletal fingers to gesture to his wedding ring. "He's my husband."

"Victor? Where have you gone?" Ennui could never be angry or displeased with his darling husband, but this game of hide-and-seek did tend to grow a little tiresome. Especially if the other player was very dedicated to the game, like Victor was.

Maggot quite rudely popped out of Ennui's eye socket, and if he was a second slower, he might have dropped his eyeball right onto the concrete. "I'll keep an eye out for him."

It wasn't until Ennui turned back around and called for him yet another time that Maggot apparently caught a glimpse of him. 'There he goes, there he goes! He's getting away! Quick, quick, after him!"

Ennui might have considered letting Maggot hang out in his eye for a moment longer if he wasn't already tired of their antics, and he shoved his eyeball back into place to block the flaming green worm from saying anything more.

"Victor." He called again and began to walk calmly after him. If Victor was so terribly excited and keen on exploring, Ennui only wished he'd slow down and let him join. It was ever so easy to get lost in the vast Underlondon if one didn't know their way around.

Ennui's search led him to a small vendor, the sign above reading '2ND HAND SHOPPE', and outside sat two barrels of severed arms for any corpses that were in need of them. He glanced about the area and toyed with the thought of asking the vendor if they had seen his husband, but the arms intervened and pointed in the same direction, all in sync.

"Thank you." He smiled kindly and followed their directions.

Ennui watched Victor head down a corridor, a particular one lined with coffins, and he approached after him. He suppressed a chuckle when he saw the taller man playing dead in one of the coffins, and Ennui decided to play along with it. He walked past the occupied coffin and acted as though Victor's guile had worked, but as soon as he reached the end of the corridor and heard a small voice cry out that "he went that way", he turned and resumed the pursuit.

A handful of street corners and alleyways later, Ennui sighted his darling... scaling a wall? Specifically the face that lead all the way to a popular lookout point that gave an incredible view of Underlondon. Ennui chuckled fondly. Victor must have missed the staircase a yard or so to his left.

No longer in a rush, the young corpse scales the staircase at his own pace. No matter how fast Victor climbed, Ennui would reach the top first. And that's exactly what he did.

He waited at the top for his darling and idly leaned on the railing, one cheek cradled in his palm and watching Victor climb. When Victor reached the railing he mistakingly took hold of Ennui's skeletal leg and gasped in surprise, but Ennui didn't mind.

"You could have used the stairs, silly." He teased him, taking Victor's arm and easily lifting him up and over the railing to join him. "Isn't the view beautiful?" He asked, gesturing to the vast city in the distance. "It takes my breath away."

While walking towards a solitary bench to sit down, Ennui joked "Well, it would if I had any." Followed by another chuckle at his little pun. "Isn't it romantic?"

He took a seat on the bench and patted the spot beside him for Victor to join him, and he scooted just a little closer when the pale lad complied and sat down.

"Look," Victor said with what sounded like exhaustion, "I'm terribly sorry about what's happened to you, and I'd like to help, but I really need to get home."

"This is your home now." He replied simply with a grin.

Victor's voice softened a tad. "But I don't even know your name."

Ennui was about to respond, but he was cut off by the dumb green diva in his head whispering mockingly. "Well, that's a great way to start a marriage."

"Shh, shut up!" He whispered and bopped himself on the head to emphasise his point. He knew that Maggot made Victor uneasy. He then smiled at Victor and hummed quietly.

"It's Ennui." He said.

The name struck something in Victor's memory and he searched back to find it, squinting a bit as he cycled through the rigorous studies he endured as a student, particularly his foreign language studies.

"Ennui... that's French, isn't it?" Victor questioned, hoping to narrow it down.

Ennui looked elated. "Yes, yes it is! My grandparents were French."

"I see." Victor racked his brain for the origin of the word in his studies of French literature. However he turned up a blank and decided to let it go for the time being.

"Oh," Ennui perked up, "I almost forgot. I have something for you." He leaned over the end of the bench and pulled a heavy, solid box from the ground, and placed it on Victor's lap. The contents rattled. He then leaned in and whispered cheekily that it was a wedding present.

Victor hesitated, but he picked up the tattered stone box and lifted it to his ear, giving it a soft shake to try to figure out just how many pieces were inside, and all he could deduce was that there were many pieces. He placed the box back down on his lip and removed the lid, peering into the box, and he flinched and gasped at the contents of the present.

Victor awkwardly plucked a single bone from the pile of skeletal pieces and uttered a weak "thank you", but as soon as he did the box began to quake, and out of reflex he dropped the bone back inside and pressed down on the lid to keep anything from falling out, but he gasped again as the box seemed to leap from his lap and spilled onto the ground, the entire skeleton inside laying in bits in front of him, complete with a red collar.

Stunned speechless, Victor could only watch as the bones suddenly came together, and in the blink of an eye he heard a familiar bark, and standing there was the skeleton of a dog. A small one at that. The dog... stared? At Victor, lacking any eyeballs or organic tissues or substance whatsoever, and wagged its boney tail at him gleefully.

Victor's shock quickly dissolved into interest and awe, and he barely hesitated when the dog siddled up to him with the collar in its teeth, offering it to Victor to take. He took it carefully and took a look at the tag, where a home address was engraved as well as the pooch's name. It was a name that caused a deep, warm feeling of fondness to wash over Victor. It was his only true friend's name, one that he missed every day so very dearly.

"Scraps?" He asked softly.

The dog barked again in confirmation, and a wide grin spread across the man's face. "Scraps! My dog Scraps!"

The dog jumped into Victor's lap and he wasted no time in securing the collar around his neck. He was absolutely elated to see his best friend again after so many years of loneliness after the dog's death in Victor's student years.

Ennui chuckled beside him and Victor stroked the dog's chin. "Oh, Scraps, what a good boy."  He crooned.

"I knew you'd be happy to see him." Ennui said warmly.

Excited beyond belief, Victor couldn't fight the childish joy as he cycled through a few tricks that he taught Scraps during his lifetime. The dog hadn't forgotten a single one of them and jumped back up onto the bench with the two men, Ennui petting his skull and Victor scratching at his rump, causing his leg to thump happily.

"What a cutie," Ennui cooed.

"You should have seen him with fur." Victor replied fondly.

Feeling a bit more relaxed and willing to open up, Victor stroked Scraps' skull as a thought came to him. "Mother never approved of Scraps jumping up like this. But then again... she never approved of anything."

Ennui smiled and asked softly, "Do you think she would have approved of me?"

Victor chuckled once in response and gave Ennui an incredulous look. "You're lucky you'll never have to meet her."

Then, in an instant, an idea struck him. Hold on a moment. If this corpse had travelled to his world to bring him here, then there had to be a way back to the surface. Victor had to suppress a sly grin as the plan formulated itself in his brain, and he gently set Scraps down on the ground.

"Well, actually, now that you mention it, I think you should."

Ennui made a small noise of acknowledgement and waited for Victor to continue.

"In fact," Victor rose to his feet and walked a step or two away, "since we're, you know... m-married, you should definitely meet her. And my father, too." He turned back to Ennui for good measure. "We should go and see them right now."


End file.
